


“What does love mean?”

by Regnard



Category: Deus Ex (Video Games), Deus Ex: Mankind Divided
Genre: AU, M/M, Romance, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:07:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27101698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Regnard/pseuds/Regnard
Summary: It began on the very day that James Miller stood on the platform waiting for his train. The train that would take him home. To an empty apartment, where no one was waiting for him. Now when he lost everything, Jim finally began to wonder how valuable all of it was, how fulfilling. And while the wounds were still fresh, Miller felt like the loneliest person on the earth.But love never waits or asks permission. It hits a person like a tsunami, washing away all psychological barriers and attitudes, capturing him into a whirlpool, a whirlpool of emotions. It remains only to plunge into it deeper.
Relationships: Adam Jensen/Jim Miller
Kudos: 5





	“What does love mean?”

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by NERO's song "What does love mean". That's where the title came from. I truely recomend all of you to listen to this song, it's really beautifull.  
> And hope you'll enjoy another short story about my lovely boys.

It began on the very day that James Miller stood on the platform waiting for his train. The train that would take him home. To an empty apartment, where no one was waiting for him. No one worrying about his delays at work, nobody asking how his day was. Now there was literally no one to share an evening with, watching some stupid movie. And that was his fault. Now when he lost everything, Jim finally began to wonder how valuable all of it was, how fulfilling.  
His ex-husband was a good man. Maybe not quite suitable for him, but good. Miller learned to understand and separate these concepts over time. After each new quarrel or misunderstanding, he tried to find the very thread to grab onto, the reason why everything just went to hell. At first, he felt he was misunderstood. All the nit-picking seemed to be pulled out of thin air. He began to dwell more at work and drink more in private. And then he just realized. This realization came down as a blessing from heaven: nothing can be fixed. Because there is nothing to fix if nothing is broken. Sometimes you just need to leave each other alone and stop trying to "fix" the other for your needs.  
They broke up not quite like friends, but not like enemies either. And that was enough for him. It’s enough that his ex allowed him to see their children, and that they finally quit quarreling. Perhaps, after a while, they will even be able to talk to each other calmly again.  
But while the wounds were still fresh, Miller felt like the loneliest person on the earth. Yes, he was afraid to admit it to himself, but this doesn’t mean that he didn’t feel or didn’t understand what was happening to him. This strange melancholy, obsession with work, which appeared after the divorce, bothered the ones who cared about him a lot. His friends and family tried to help him overcome this state, but in the end were extremely mad at him.  
Over time, they left him alone, gave up trying to reach him, and he was left on his own. Lonely, lost, desperate for something. The slightest sign, reason. Anything to rekindle the fire of life in him.  
With a heavy sigh, he turned his head towards the tabloid and, noting that his train was about to drive up, and out of habit, touched his ring finger. Instead of a wedding ring, there was only emptiness, a whitish trace that would soon disappear, taking with it the last memories of a once happy married life. Startled at the unpleasant thoughts, Jim pulled his coat tighter. Today was unpleasant for several reasons: a huge amount of work, signed divorce papers sent to him by his lawyer. This damn weather too. It seems as if the heavens also decided to pour out their "grace" on to him, to smash it right over his head, nailing him to the ground with tons of ice water. Well, go on. It can’t get any worse.  
A few minutes later he was inside the train and out of reach of the cold evening wind. Miller looked around and spotted an empty seat. He walked up to it and then sat down with a sigh. Ahead was a half an hour of tranquil rest, when there was no need to think about anything, only to ride into the night with the sound of raindrops drumming on the window.  
Noticing that he was beginning to fall asleep, the man shifted. He could not afford to doze off and pass his stop. Not only because he’ll return home late, but also because he’d have to buy a new ticket too. So, trying to focus his gaze on at least something, just not to close his eyes again, the man ran his gaze over the diverse people, traveling with him in the same direction. At some point, his attention was drawn to the passenger sitting opposite. The man was quite interesting. Standing out from the crowd. His age was difficult to determine, but Miller decided that he was in his thirties. The Stranger's choice of clothes was also entertaining. This man had a clear understanding of what would look good on him. At least his expensive trench coat spoke of it perfectly. What else was visible is the black turtleneck, that gave some idea about the young man's athletic build. The image of an elegant gentleman (or an office clerk, whichever you prefer) was complemented by perfectly fitting trousers and varnished oxfords. The stranger was deeply immersed in reading, which gave James an opportunity to check him out closely. In society, such attention towards other people was considered indecent, but since nobody cared about it right now, Miller permitted himself to admire the stranger’s pleasant features a little bit longer.  
At some point, this mysterious man turned the page and tilted his head to one side. He bit his lip thoughtfully, and then, frowning slightly, looked up. Jim noticed the movement of his eyeballs at the last moment and convulsively looked away. For one small, tiny moment, their gazes met, and James felt like an electric current went through his whole body. For the rest of the way, he sat staring at his phone, with the clear, paranoid feeling that a beautiful stranger was watching him closely. He couldn’t find the courage to look in his direction, and quickly got off the train as soon as the speaker announced his stop. And then, for the rest of the night and the following morning, he squandered this memory in his head repeatedly, examining it from all sides. This continued until he ordered himself to stop. Bitterly telling himself that his "midlife crisis" had come, Jim finished his job for the day and went home.  
Entering the familiar train, he sat down on the same seat as yesterday and immediately took out his phone. In case of incredible boredom, he had a chess application, and without thinking twice Miller clicked on the game icon. For a while, chess really got him entertained. He didn't have to think about not falling asleep. But then, at some point, he finished another game and looked up from the screen. His heart froze for a moment, and then fell somewhere deep, perhaps to the center of the earth.  
In front of him, same as yesterday sat the same stranger in the expensive coat. He was reading the same book, only the bookmark was a little further than yesterday. The stranger's lips moved slightly, as if saying words almost aloud would make it easier for him to understand the meaning of what was written. Finally, the man looked up from his book and his gaze slowly rose. This time Miller was ready. Practically. NO, he wasn't bloody ready, but he didn't look away either.  
There was a lot of distance between them, but still it seemed as if those cold deep-green eyes were right in front of his face. The look was calm, incredibly deep and thoughtful. Such eyes could only be possessed by a person who had seen a lot in his life.  
Apparently, the stranger expected Jim to look away as usual, but without getting the desired result, he raised his eyebrow in question. Miller lowered his eyes for a second, and then looked into those stunning green eyes again with more awareness. For a moment, James thought that a shadow of smile glimmered on the passenger's lips, but the stranger resumed reading.  
This episode gave Jim extra food for thought. It didn’t look like the brunette was against Miller looking at him. And he was happy that he could enjoy watching such a handsome man without fear of causing a misunderstanding. Especially after a hard day’s work, when his eyes are damn tired of all those papers that he has to look through, and his voice doesn’t want to speak because of the endless hours spent on phone calls, he just wants to sit down and relax. No talking, no thinking, just watching. Observing the gold patterns on the stranger's coat, his beautiful hands with a simple black ring on the middle finger, and his polished shiny shoes (not without small scratches, of course). If the stranger didn't mind, Jim saw no reason to deny himself the pleasure.  
This went on for several more days: he sat in his place and the stranger sat opposite. One read, the other watched. They didn’t speak, didn’t even look at each other. They just knew about each other's existence, and that was enough.  
Until a certain point.  
A week passed, and Miller's desire to somehow fit into the mysterious stranger’s life only became stronger. He told his sister, a person close to him, about all of this, and she called him a bloody stalker. She advised to distract himself with something, rather than continue to spy on strangers. Jim wouldn’t call it spying. No, maybe she WAS right, but he desperately needed all of _this_ , that thought of just walking into the train one day and forgetting about those beautiful green eyes made him feel even more miserable.  
So today he decided to act. To cross this "just fellow travelers" border by at least a millimeter.  
Taking a deep breath, Jim took a step inside the train and sat down where the brunette usually sits. For a moment he felt uncomfortable, as if he was taking someone else's place, but chased this thought out of his head. After all, this is a public transport, and everyone can sit where they want to!  
Holding his breath, he waited for the charming passenger to come in at the next stop. And so, the hour approached, as usual, the brunette in his stunning trench-coat went inside. He turned his head towards the place where he usually sat and noticed Jim. His eyebrow slightly raised, however, without giving a special sign, he took a few steps and sat down half a meter from Miller. There was plenty of place for one more person, but Jim prayed to heaven that no one would dare to sit between them. Then the brunette took a book out leisurely from his backpack and began to read.  
At first, James swore to himself that he would not spy again. He just sat straitly, scolding himself because of inability to watch his object of sympathy. Surely now it will be strange if he just turns his head and starts silently staring. However, after a few agonizing seconds, during which he glanced at the book pages, Jim finally threw away his stupid shame and turned his full attention to the book. After a while he was able to understand that the book was about space. Everything was written in a quite easy and interesting language, and Miller got so carried away by the text that he forgot to think that he was acting strange. He left train with a bitter sense of dissatisfaction. The next night, he dreamt of those deep green eyes.  
Reading from the stranger's book had become something of a ritual for him. At first, Miller could hardly see what was written, but one day the brunette simply put the book on his lap, as if to show that he knew about the other reader. Jim should have been embarrassed by this, but the embarrassment passed very quickly. In the end, his companion didn't mind, and James needed something to distract himself with after a hard day’s work.  
The turning point came on the day when the stranger put his bookmark between the pages, on which he wrote: _“Hello there, mister. Are you enjoying the book? "_  
At first, Miller thought he was seeing things. It really could be so: he read so many texts on the computer at work and maybe drank too much coffee. However, blinking several times, the man realized with a shock that the letters on the paper were real. Written in a fast, sweeping manner.  
First, an icy fear washed over him. The last two nerve cells scrambled in fear, and a ringing silence formed in his head. Then an unbearable heat rolled over, and he literally felt his face burning. He raised his eyes slowly only to meet the gaze of his fellow traveler, attentive and expectant. Holding his breath for a moment, the man convulsively thought that he needs to react somehow. He could only blink. His mouth opened to give an answer, but then Jim suddenly thought about how strange it must be to just start talking after half an hour of silence, to a stranger sitting next to him. He will instantly become the center of everyone's attention. Well, no, it will be too damn much for today.  
So, Miller just decided to pretend he hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary. But the stranger made certain conclusions. He turned the bookmark over and closed the book. Then he pulled out his wireless headphones, black and gold, from the inside pocket of his coat, and put them into his ears, leaned back and closed his eyes. He didn't open them even when Jim got up to get off at his stop.  
With a heavy sigh, James had to admit that he was acting like a complete idiot. Of course, he didn’t come to this conclusion immediately, but still the stranger expected some actions from him, and his selective blindness spoke for itself. He gave his silent fellow traveler a non-verbal sign that he doesn’t find him interesting. Meanwhile, he’s been thinking about him for the second damn week, in his dreams and when he is awake. Hell, this guy took up almost all the free space in Miller's head. So, this fuckup becomes even greater.  
He needed to figure out how to fix the situation at once. That's what James did best: problem solving. Of course, he was also a master of creating them.  
Not finding a better solution than to take the initiative in his own hands, the next day Jim sat at his place. This time the brunet did not read. He listened to music. His phone, a brushed metal black smartphone, lay in his relaxed palm. The screen quickly faded, and James could only guess what kind of music this mysterious man preferred. He got out his own phone and started playing chess. At least in this way he wanted to attract brunette’s attention.  
His plan succeeded: after a while of throwing the most suspicious tiniest glance at his fellow traveler, Jim noticed that he was watching his game. Miller pointedly shut down the application and open his electronic notebook. Then he quickly typed:  
_“Sorry I didn't answer yesterday. You took me by surprise."_  
For a while, the brunette did nothing. He continued to listen to music in silence. His eyes were closed. However, after a while, the man apparently decided something for himself and, taking his phone with another hand, typed the answer in his own notebook:  
_"Just as I thought. Stupid me, writing on a bookmark."_  
Jim erased his previous answer and typed a new one:  
_"Not stupid. Unexpected"_  
The brunette shook his head slightly. Then he quickly typed a new message.  
_"The name is Adam. And yours?"_  
Miller pronounced the stranger's name in his head with a little bit of tenderness and an expectation of something … something grander. Strangely, this idea of texting on the phone actually worked. The plan, of course, was brilliant: they don't need to talk out loud, just look at each other's phone. From a distance it looked completely unsuspicious and will not cause any additional questions from anyone. But damn, how easy it would be for a stranger to ignore him now, like Jim ignored him last time.  
_"James. And friends call me Jim,”_ Miller wrote his answer.  
"So how do you want me to call you?" a question appeared on the brunette’s phone screen.  
That made James hold his breath for a moment and smile faintly.  
_“I would be glad if you called me Jim,”_ he typed after a little thought. God, how easy it was to flirt with someone who doesn't owe you anything, and you don't owe him anything in return. Miller had already forgotten what it felt like. The last time he felt this bubbling feeling in his chest was when he began dating his ex. It was a long, long time ago. It seemed like no less than a hundred years had passed.  
_“Okay Jim. Coming home from work? "_ Adam asked a new question.  
_"Yes. I work for a company,”_ Miller typed. He, of course, lied a little, but who cares? The company did exist, it was just that he was not only an employee in it, but also a co-owner. Such a trifle. Needless to say. Especially if you're texting a flirting message to a stranger.  
_"Just as I thought. The suit speaks for itself,"_ the brunette replied.  
_"And what do you do?”_ James wrote. _“Same?”_  
_"No. I'm a clock mechanic. Make them, also sell. As for my look, we have a dress-code in our store, because of the location. I have to obey,_ " Adam gave his answer.  
Now it was Miller's turn to shake his head. He briefly looked at the display built into the ceiling and with a disappointed sigh found that he would have to go right now. He frowned in displeasure and quickly typed:  
_“My stop. Unfortunately, I have to go ."_  
Adam read it and answered right away:  
_“See you. Tomorrow. Same time, same place."_  
For the first time since they began chatting, Jim looked at his companion. Adam's gaze was just something. He himself was something. Strict, soft, cold, but magnetic. This is why James was so drawn to him: he always was a problem-seeker. Especially when it comes to love choice.  
Miller got up, nodded to the brunette as if saying goodbye, and left the train. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he had butterflies in his stomach. As if all the shit in his life that he had to go through had never happened, as if he didn’t have a "midlife crisis" and depression. Like he's bloody twenty-five again.  
The next day and the days that followed Adam sat in the same place. Seeing his face after work was like a breath of fresh air. Miller didn’t know how he managed to survive the weekend in his empty apartment and rushed to work, as the craziest workaholic that existed on the planet. And what for? To plunge into this deep green ocean once again. Over and over.  
Their short chats with Adam became more significant with each passing day. At first, they just exchanged trivial phrases. Sometimes they discussed other passengers. Miller quickly realized that his companion had an excellent sense of humor. Subtle, sharp, but not annoying at all.  
Sometimes they just read together. Adam left funny messages on the margins that cheered Jim up. Sometimes he underlined paragraphs he liked most and attributed questions to them, so introspective, that Jim stayed attentive for a while. He didn’t even notice, when he began to buy those books that his beautiful stranger was reading and reread them in his free time.  
Sometimes they listened to music. Adam discreetly left one of the headphones on the seat, and James would quickly pick it up when no one was looking. He then put it into his ear and fully plunged into Adam’s world. It seemed that they shared not only the musical space. It was like they were all alone in a world where there was only two of them. James never thought that simply listening to music together could be such a deep, meaningful act. So sensual. It was Adam's choice that helped Jim understand him better. Miller never asked to switch the track, he just accepted what was given to him, the emotion that was shared with him. Today, for example, they listened to something energetic, and a few days later - melancholic and a little sad.  
Of course, every so often the brunette chose more soothing tracks. As if he knew what James needed.  
In these moments of psychological kinship, Miller always wondered: what his companion was thinking, what was he dreaming, what bothered him. He wanted to know these answers. Know everything about Adam. His soul was filled with an unbearable bittersweet feeling. He literally couldn’t breathe because of the desire to be a part of Adam’s world. And he feared that he wasn’t allowed to. What did it cost to ask? Miller didn't know. Rather, he knew that he was too damn afraid to lose this illusory connection one day. Because of a wrong word or action. Due to the lack of confidence that the other person might feel as well.  
Today was cloudy. It was raining since the early morning, and by the time Miller went home, the clouds covered the sky that not even the slightest rays of light were able to reach the ground. Jim didn't care. He was in high spirits because he was going to meet his "dream". Obsession. There were many words he could use to describe Adam. He was not a poet; and he was not distinguished by expressiveness. But he would like to. To finally say what was so important. To convey his thought as fully and clearly as possible for human speech.  
He was so damn tired of walking on the edge. From the inability to even touch the one who caused such a strong emotional resonance inside him.  
As always, he sat in his usual place. Adam appeared a little later. His coat wet from this heavy rain. The young man sat down next to his silent companion and took out his phone. Put one headphone on the seat and gave Jim a quick glance. After waiting for him to put the earbud in his ear, he turned on the music.  
The music was perfect for the weather, and the situation: thanks to it, Miller wanted to ride this train forever, watching the storm outside. While being in their world for two.  
One track slowly replaced the other. Jim realized that today's musical score belonged to the same artist. Perhaps Adam learned about him recently and wanted to share these impressions with his companion. This thought brought a smile to Miller's face and he closed his eyes for a moment. Just for one second.  
A deep shadow, fell on the floor through the train windows, and brought him out of the musical trance. Jim was surprised how he never noticed the tunnel on the way home. Looking around and glancing at the display, he finally realized that he passed his stop. He swore softly and squinted his eyes to the side. Adam was still sitting next to him and seemed to be dozing off as well. However, when the train fully entered the tunnel, the sudden change in lighting also brought him out of the musical trance. He opened his eyes and, blinked several times, glancing in Jim's direction. The surprise in his eyes was quickly replaced by pity. Miller shrugged at his gaze and leaned back. There was nothing he could do, only wait for the next stop.  
At some point, the light in the train began to flash. Several passengers began to whisper. A sudden voice on the loudspeaker said that there was a small problem that would be resolved in a few minutes and urged people not to panic as they’ll be left without lighting in the tunnel. Jim chuckled at that statement. He was not afraid of the dark.  
The song changed to a new track a few seconds ago. The beginning was already promising: the musical composition began with a spinning tune of several notes. Like an unwinding ball of thread, slowly, sound by sound, introducing the atmosphere. Finally, a female voice sang:  
_"We met on the platform at midnight._  
_Got on a train together for a long, long ride…”_  
Something in Jim's chest tightened at the sound of these words, and an incredible desire to look at Adam at that moment corrupted all his thoughts. In the dim light, the brunette's face looked like it was made from white marble and was so serene. Adam’s face resembled a statue of the masters, where the hardness of a stone under the hands of a real genius turned into soft clay. Jim almost wanted to touch that face to make sure it was a human being and not a Greek statue.  
_“I turned to you as looked me in the eyes,_  
_And you said: What does love mean, what does love mean?”_  
Inaudibly, only with his lips, Adam repeated the last line of the verse. Then he looked up from his hands which were laying on his lap, and before the train got completely dark, Jim saw his piercing stare. That stare, full of silent expectation, hope and… fear? Fear of rejection, perhaps. But how could such a beautiful creature be rejected? Miller would never have dared to do such a terrifying act.  
The singer echoed the last words, and they, like a mantra, stuck in James's head. Really, what does love mean? How can you even know that you love someone?  
Miller never thought much about this transient feeling. He was always too busy with himself, or with work. He considered himself a deeply rational person, and therefore incapable of deep affection. Strong feelings always made him feel awkward, he closed himself off from them, defended himself with his coolness and cynicism. Another reason why his husband eventually left him. He simply couldn’t awaken the fire in his soul. Rather, Jim just wouldn't let him. Probably he wasn’t ready. Probably, he was used to forbidding himself to feel something strong, he was afraid of losing control. And, perhaps, that was not the fire that he needed.  
But love never waits or asks permission. It hits a person like a tsunami, washing away all psychological barriers and attitudes, capturing him into a whirlpool, a whirlpool of emotions. It remains only to plunge into it deeper. You can't swim upstream anyway.  
With Adam, Jim felt this. Nailed, unable to even move, while the green eyes stared into his soul. But it was thanks to these eyes that he learned to breathe underwater. Breathe as deeply as he never breathed in a long time.  
Clutching his jaws, the man inhaled deeply and allowed himself to move closer to Adam. Darkness has always been the patroness of lovers, and now Miller knew why. It hid everything secret from prying eyes and finally allowed Jim to act. To touch his beloved one. A tiny, barely audible sigh came to his ears. This sound sent goosebumps all over Miller's body. He painfully expected his beautiful stranger would push him away. But Adam remained steady.  
And the singer continued to broadcast the claims of love:  
_" And as the train sped along the track_  
_We knew there was no way we could ever go back”_  
Miller ran his thumb along Adam’s wrist bone and stopped where a vein throbbed madly under the thin, smooth skin. Once again, the darkness allowed him to hide the smile that stretched his lips. His own heart was beating against his ribs like mad, but this thought that he was not the only one experiencing this storm of emotions calmed him and gave him courage.  
At some point, Adam's palm laid over his. This sensation of someone else's warmth forced Jim to close his eyes. He dreamt about it, hoped for this moment, imagined in all colors, and now this usual, almost pure touch of hands made him feel a little dizzy. A quick thought ran through his head that he was reacting to all this stupidly, like a teenager, caused him only to smile. He was too tired: today, over the past year, in his entire life, to begin to control himself again. For now, he allowed himself to be free.  
_" And on that journey, I turned, and I whispered to you "_  
A stranger's breath on his lips, so hot and so desirable, pulled Miller out of his stream of thoughts. And this sudden sensation made him feel hot and cold at the same time. He was unable, unable to pull away. Feeling wild adrenaline in his blood, like a person jumping with a parachute for the first time, Jim allowed himself to dive into this abyss and leaned forward. The touch of lips, so simple and barely perceptible, made him literally gasp for breath.  
What he felt at that moment … Indescribable. But there is one word that still came to his mind.  
_Alive._  
He felt alive. Damn alive. What he was searching for SO long was finally found.  
And he was happy.  
_“This is what love means; it's what love means."_  
True, this is what love means.


End file.
